JACKSON -- The traffic flow from Jackson to Cape Girardeau is always heavy on weekdays. Thousands of cars pack Highway 61's southbound lane, the drivers readying for another long workday.

On Monday, one traveler slowed the others down a bit. Ed LaRose was walking against the traffic in the emergency lane, carrying a 13-foot-long, 70-pound cross on his shoulder.

Monday's walk was typical of the 40-year-old Native American's life: pushing against the stream while other people apathetically rush past. That is why he walks with the cross and prays almost every day of his life.

"I pray for forgiveness and healing," LaRose said. "America has a lot of deep wounds."

The wounds he is praying about lately happened on the Trail of Tears. In the 1830s, 70,000 Native Americans from various tribes were moved west of the Mississippi. They had been living on land whites wanted, so Congress passed the Indian Removal Act in 1830 and forced the Native Americans to leave.

Thousands died on the way to their new land in Oklahoma. The path they took was named Trail of Tears, and it is the path LaRose began traveling in Fort Payne, Ala., in June. He plans to stop in Tahlequah, Okla., in October.

His entourage includes his wife, Rene, two daughters, ages 4 and 2, and a young follower, Chris Finger, 14. Another LaRose baby is due in February. The group stayed at the Drury Lodge in Fruitland Saturday and Sunday and planned to move on to Bollinger County Monday afternoon.

They don't walk everywhere. LaRose must load up the cross and drive through some of the trail, and the children ride most of the way. Every so often, they stop to sprinkle anointing oil -- made with frankincense and myrrh -- and pray over the trail.

Native American theology and the cross don't seem to go hand-in-hand, but LaRose said the sign of the cross is healing for all people. He added that many of the Native Americans forced from their eastern homes already were converted to Christianity.

LaRose takes time off from his Trail of Tears walk to recover from falling arches and foot blisters, something even a fresh pair of New Balance athletic shoes apparently can't prevent. The trip is funded mostly through donations and the profit LaRose makes from a small medical supply business he co-owns.

He wasn't always a self-sacrificing Christian. Nineteen years ago, he was a beer-drinking, fight-picking, hateful man with few beliefs. A member of the Pomo and Pitt River tribes, he had been raised learning Native American theology.

A broadcast of the 700 Club turned LaRose's life around. He became a full-time minister and started walking with the cross 13 years ago.

Since then, LaRose and his cross have seen more countries and continents than most people ever will. He has been to China, Austria, Hong Kong, Africa, Australia, Vietnam, Cambodia, Europe and numerous other places.

In Vietnam, LaRose said, about 4,000 Christians followed him for part of his journey. During a trip through China, the police threatened to take his life if he didn't pack up and leave. He has hundreds of similar stories.

In January, LaRose was in his home town of Santa Rosa, Calif., praying about his next walk.

"I feel like the Holy Spirit is leading me," he said. "I never even heard of the Trail of Tears, but during my prayer, God spoke to me. I felt I should go to the Trail of Tears with the cross."

LaRose went to the library, read all he could about the trail, packed up his family and headed out.

Most people in this country are apathetic about his walk, he said. Some honk and wave, a few stop and give donations. Others throw things or spit out the window. LaRose had close calls in Alabama and Georgia when people tried to hit him with their cars.

He doesn't become upset or stop, and the walk goes on.

After this trip is over, LaRose and his family will return to Santa Rosa, get their belongings out of storage and try to rent an apartment. After the baby arrives, the evangelist plans to prayerfully decide which country needs healing next.